


Never Not in Love

by sara_wolfe



Series: Winteriron Week [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Background Relationships, Coming Untouched, Feelings, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_wolfe/pseuds/sara_wolfe
Summary: It was just a field trip. What could possibly go wrong?OR - Watch as reservations get ruined, Tony's students smuggle kittens out of France, and Tony and Bucky talk about their feelings like (semi) functional adults.





	Never Not in Love

**Author's Note:**

> For Winteriron Week, day three: sharing a bed, "I'm not drunk enough for this."

It should have been the easiest part of the field trip. It was one of the very first things he called and arranged, and he’d checked in just two days ago to confirm all the details. There was no way that this, out of everything, could have possibly gotten screwed up. And yet…

“What do you mean the reservation is only for fourteen rooms?”

The hotel clerk typed rapidly at his keyboard, eyes never leaving his computer screen long enough to even look up at Tony. “The reservation we have on file for you, Mr. Stark,” he said, “is for fourteen rooms.”

“The reservation I made _three months ago_ ,” Tony said, emphatically, “was for fifteen rooms. Fifteen.” 

He knew, logically, that it wasn’t the clerk’s fault that the reservation had gotten screwed up. But he’d also been on a bus with a class of twenty-one hyper teenagers for the last four hours as they drove from the airport, past all the perfectly wonderful five-star hotels the city had to offer, and to what a group of overly-aggressive PTA moms had insisted was a charming bed and breakfast even though it was in the middle of fucking nowhere - and if it was so charming, why weren’t any of them helping to chaperone the field trip? - and he was down to one frayed nerve. Tony took a deep breath and tried again.

“I called two days ago to check on the reservation,” he said, calmly. “I called two days ago, and I spoke to a wonderful woman named Bridgette, and she assured me that we had fifteen rooms waiting for us.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I can only tell you what my computer screen says. And it says fourteen rooms. And, no, we don’t have any empty rooms,” he added, when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “We’re all booked up for the wine and cheese festival over the weekend.”

“…right,” Tony sighed. “Well, all the rooms are at least doubles, right?” It wasn’t ideal, him and Barnes having to go from solo rooms to suddenly sharing a room, but they’d make do.

“Actually,” and Tony was ready to scream because he knew he wasn’t going to like the rest of that sentence, “the room at the stairwell end of the hallway is a single queen.”

“Of course it is,” Tony said. 

Handing over his credit card, he watched in silence as the clerk finished the rest of the transaction. Then, shoving his wallet back into his pocket, he stalked back to where Barnes was waiting with the kids. 

“Everything okay with the check-in?” Barnes asked, and Tony made a noise in the back of his throat that might have charitably been called a growl. Barnes snorted out a quick laugh, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “That good, huh?”

“We’re sharing a room,” Tony informed him, and he might have been hurt by how fast the grin dropped off Barnes’ face if he hadn’t still been so annoyed at the situation, himself. “In fact, we’re going to be sharing a bed.”

Leaving Barnes to contemplate the new development, Tony passed out room keys to the kids and shooed them all upstairs. He trailed after his herd of thundering elephants with Barnes on his heels, both of them carrying the bits of luggage that had been left in the lobby in the rush to get upstairs. They went down the hallway, checking on the kids in their rooms and delivering forgotten belongings, and then after they’d stalled as long as they could, yjey trudged back to their room at the end of the hallway.

“We could always give the single to one of the students and take one of the double rooms,” Barnes suggested, staring at the bed like he expected it to come alive and attack them. 

“Oh, yeah?” Tony drawled. “And who, exactly, are you willing to give unrestricted access to the staircase without us there as a barrier?”

From the look on Barnes’ face, that possibility hadn’t occurred to him. “So, I guess I’m stuck with you, then,” he muttered, sounding like he was about to face his own firing squad. 

Okay, that one was hurtful. Grabbing his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it on the floor, Tony stomped over to the bed and dumped his stuff on the right side of the bed. “Don’t take my side,” he snapped, before turning and heading back out of the room to check on the kids again. If Barnes really felt that strongly about having to spend time with him, then Tony wasn’t going to spend another second longer with him than necessary.

* * *

So far as field trips went, Tony reflected later, there were worse things than a group of kids who enjoyed learning and were genuinely excited about museums and sightseeing tours. Everyone had been on their best behavior, complaining had been kept to a minimum, and everything was going as well as he could possibly hope for. 

He didn’t trust it for a second.

“They’re being too good,” Barnes said, over lunch. For emphasis, he gestured with a ketchup-laden fry at the nearest table, where Peter and Harley were taking a selfie with the cafe’s resident cat and her litter of nine-week-old kittens. Tony made a mental note to check backpacks on the way out, to make sure no one was smuggling the adorable little balls of fluff out of the country. “I mean, look at that. When’s the last time those two got within five feet of each other without a fight?”

“Last week, when they were making out under the bleachers on the football field,” MJ offered, passing them on her way to her own table. 

“Getting along because they discovered hormones,” Tony groaned, burying his head in his hands. “That might actually be worse.” Hearing a cooing sound, he lifted his head long enough to see Peter and Harley sharing a brief kiss that had half their classmates swooning and the other half groaning. “I blame you for this,” he told Barnes. 

“What’d I do?” Barnes demanded. 

“’Mr. Barnes had us read Romeo and Juliet’,” Tony parroted, glaring at him, although he had the feeling the effect was lost when he didn’t bother to sit up. “’Peter and Harley read the leads and it was _so_ romantic!’ You took my rational science minions and turned them into literature nerds,” he finished, accusingly. 

“It’s not my fault they appreciate the classics,” Barnes told him. 

“They’re eighteen, hormonal, and too damn smart for their own good,” Tony retorted. “What they appreciate is the barrage of dick jokes.”

“With Shakespeare, it’s the same thing,” Barnes replied, cheerily. Tony threw a wadded-up napkin at his head. 

Barnes caught the napkin in mid-air, and then stole a sip of Tony’s milkshake in revenge, and for a second it was like everything was back to normal, like the last year and a half hadn’t happened and everything was the way it used to be between them. Back before the accident, before Bucky pushed him away every time he tried to get close, before everything went so horribly wrong-

And then the sound of shattering glass broke the peaceful moment, and Tony jumped to his feet to assess the damage and check for injuries. And if he hovered over the kids, and used them as a flimsy excuse to avoid having to be next to Barnes for the rest of the afternoon, well, who was going to call him on it?

* * *

The rest of the day passed in an exhausted blur, and before he knew it, Tony was shepherding the kids into their rooms and looking forward to collapsing in his bed. But he had one last thing to take care of, first. 

“Hey, kid,” he said, popping his head into the room Harley was sharing with Flash. “Need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Someone’s in trouble!” Flash sang out, as Harley unfolded himself from his bed, and Harley flipped him off as he joined Tony out in the hallway. 

“What’s up?” Harley asked, and Tony slung an arm over Harley’s shoulders, steering him further down the hallway.

“You and Peter,” Tony said, getting a groan in response. 

“Oh, come on, Dad!” he protested. “Why do we have to talk about this?”

“Because you’re my son,” Tony told him, “and it’s my singular joy in life to interrogate you about your romantic endeavors.”

“I hate you,” Harley informed him.

“You love me,” Tony retorted. Pushing open the door to his and Bucky’s room, he ushered Harley inside. “So, let’s talk.”

“Peter and I are dating,” Harley said, as he dropped face-down onto the bed, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Tony’s pillow. “We kissed, and it was fun, and it turns out we have a lot in common, so we’re giving the dating thing a shot.”

“Isn’t Peter dating MJ?” Tony asked, curiously. He hadn’t seen any big shakeups in the classroom, and he hadn’t thought that his group was the type to be able to keep that kind of thing quiet for long. 

“He is,” Harley replied, which was not the answer Tony was expecting. 

He rolled onto his back, still hugging the pillow to his chest in an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability, and Tony was overcome by the overwhelming urge to sweep his son up in his arms and protect him against the rest of the world. But, that hadn’t worked out so well for him the last time he tried with someone, so he just sat down beside Harley on the bed, waiting patiently. 

“Peter and I are dating,” Harley finally said, “and Peter and MJ are dating, and MJ and I aren’t dating, but we are friends, and we’re just trying it out to see if we can make it work. Sometimes it’s kind of scary,” he admitted, softly. “Good scary, like when you’re at the top of a really cool roller coaster, but still scary.”

“First love always is, kiddo,” Tony told him, getting a small smile in response. “So,” he added, “do we need to have the safe sex talk, again?”

“Dad!” Harley went bright scarlet as he covered his face with the pillow. 

“Well, are you having sex?” Tony asked. 

There was a prolonged silence from Harley’s side of the bed, and then finally a tiny nod. When Harley lifted his head, he was still beet red from his hairline down to his neck, but he met Tony’s gaze head-on.

“We’re being safe,” he said, seriously. “All of us. I promise. We’re practicing safe sex, and healthy polyamory, and we’re talking about stuff before we have problems, like all the books and Dr. Kurt suggest. We even called Uncle Rhodey, Aunt Carol, and Aunt Maria and talked to them about how they manage their relationship. I’ve done more research for this than for my last term paper.” 

“That’s shockingly mature of you,” Tony told him, and Harley shrugged. 

“Had to grow up sometime,” he pointed out. 

“I suppose,” Tony sighed, dramatically, making Harley laugh. “But, you know you can always come talk to me about anything right?”

“I know,” Harley said. And just when Tony thought they were going to get by without mentioning the elephant in the room, Harley asked, “Is that what went wrong with you and Bucky? The talking?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “One thing the books don’t tell you,” he said, looking down at his son, “is that you can’t force someone to talk to you. And that sometimes you can do all the right things, say all the things you’re supposed to, and relationships still fall apart. And it’s no one’s fault, but it’s still not necessarily something you can fix.”

“Don’t you miss him?” Harley asked. 

Tony sighed. “Every damn day.”

* * *

“And they lived happily ever after.” Tony mimed shutting the invisible book he’d been pretending to read, and on the other side of the video call, Ella giggled at him.

“Dad, is it weird that I’m almost a teenager and I still like bedtime stories?” she asked, voice cracking on a yawn as she pulled her blankets up to her chin.

“Are you kidding?” Tony asked. “Reading you a bedtime story is the best part of my night. Who’s been telling you you’re too old?” he demanded. “Because I’ll - well, they’re kids, so I’ll give them a lecture, but it’ll be a really good one!”

Ella laughed, again. “Don’t worry, Dad,” she told him. “MJ helped me take care of it, the last time she and Peter-” She cut herself off quickly, and Tony just shook his head.

“Did everyone find out about my son dating before I did?” he asked, plaintively.

“Harley didn’t tell me,” Ella replied. “I was spying on him. Little sister’s prerogative.”

“I feel like I should be saying something parental about that,” Tony said, “but frankly it’s after midnight and I’m exhausted, so I’m gonna let that one go.”

“Don’t be mad at Harley,” Ella said, yawning again. “He didn’t want to hide it from you, but he didn’t want to disappoint you, either.”

“Nothing you kids do could ever disappoint me,” Tony said, making Ella grin. Hearing the door to the room start to open, he added, “Honey, I need to hang up, and you need to go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love you, Dad,” Ella said, blowing a sleepy kiss at the camera. 

“Love you, too,” Tony said, and then he clicked the phone off and put it onto the table beside the bed.

The door finished opening all the way, and Barnes - no, Bucky; he couldn’t go back to calling him Barnes after all the memories stirred up by his conversation with Harley - came into the room and shut the door carefully behind him. He groaned when he saw Tony still awake and stretched out on the bed, his face falling, and Tony tried to push down the pain that lanced through his heart at the reaction.

“I am not drunk enough for this,” Bucky declared, as he made his way over the bed and dropped down on the other side, carefully not touching Tony. If Tony had to judge, given their long history together, Bucky wasn’t drunk at all, had probably only had one beer down at the bar, but Tony wasn’t going to call him on it.

“Not drunk enough for what?” he asked instead, deciding to play along for the moment. 

“Whatever conversation you’re so clearly dying to have,” Bucky shot back. He fell back against his pillow and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the lights in the room. “Can’t we just go back to the way things were two days ago, when you called me Barnes and avoided being in the same room with me for longer than five minutes? That was good; that was working for us.”

Tony swallowed down the angry retort he longed to make, glaring up at the ceiling so that Bucky wouldn’t see the way his eyes glistened. “Why do you keep doing this?” he finally asked, in a voice that didn’t exactly feel steady, but he wasn’t sure when else he’d be able to get the words out. 

“Doing what?” Bucky asked. 

“Acting like an asshole,” Tony said, bluntly. This was harder than he thought it would be, but he’d just been telling Harley about the joys of communication, and he couldn’t very well back down, now. “You’ve changed, Bucky, and don’t try to tell me you haven’t. You’re so angry, and you act like you can’t even stand being looking at me, sometimes - and don’t you dare try to tell me that I’m avoiding you, because I wasn’t the one who pushed you away.”

Despite his best efforts, his voice was still choked up at the end, and he swiped at the tears in his eyes. But, when he heard a sniffle coming from next to him, at least he knew he wasn’t the only one affected. 

“I’ve been trying to work on the anger,” Bucky finally said, so softly that Tony barely heard him. “I - um - I’ve been seeing a therapist ever since I came to New York.”

“That’s a big step,” Tony said, more than a little surprised. 

He still had their arguments about that very topic ringing in his ears, Bucky’s furious voice insisting that Tony only wanted something to be wrong with him because it made him feel better about himself. That had been the night that Tony had quietly moved himself and the kids into Rhodey’s guest room. A week later, he and Bucky had broken up, and Tony was interviewing for a job on the other side of the country.

“Sam talked me into it,” Bucky admitted. “I kinda got really, stupidly drunk for like a week after you left, and I kept swinging between being really pissed at you for leaving me, and wanting to call you and beg you to come home and take care of me.”

“I tried that,” Tony reminded him, carefully. “But it’s been pointed out to me that what I was really doing was tearing pieces of myself off to try and make you whole - my therapist’s words, not mine - and that wasn’t good for either of us.”

“You have a therapist, too?” Bucky asked, and Tony nodded. 

“I needed to talk to someone, and the kids needed to talk to someone,” he said. Cracking a tiny grin, he quipped, “Look at us, being emotionally healthy and shit. I’m so proud of us.”

Bucky chuckled, weakly, finally rolling onto his side to be able to look at Tony. He had one hand tucked under his cheek, making an aborted attempt to reach out to Tony with the other before he curled his hand into a tight fist. Willing himself not to read too much into things, Tony reached out to Bucky, carefully curling their fingers together in a tentative hold. Bucky stared down at their joined hands for a long minute, his face doing something funny and terribly emotional. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, quietly, looking Tony in the eye. “I was just so angry after the accident - Steve got hurt, you got hurt because of me,” he moved their hands to brush his knuckles against Tony’s chest implant, “and every time I looked at you, I kept thinking about how I could have lost you, and how much I hated myself because of it. 

“You got hurt, too,” Tony pointed out, nodding at Bucky’s prosthetic hand tucked under his cheek.

“Yeah, but-” Bucky sighed, heavily, “I felt like I deserved it. Anyway,” he went on, before Tony could even begin to protest that statement, “all that anger had to go somewhere, and you were there every day, and you caught pretty much all of it, and I just kept letting it happen because I was convinced that you’d never leave me.”

“And then I did, anyway,” Tony said. 

“You had to,” Bucky replied. “You had to take care of the kids, and you had to take care of yourself, and it was the best thing you could have done. Best thing for me, too,” he added, after a second, “even if I didn’t see it at the time.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for getting help,” Tony said, firmly, and Bucky teared up at his words. “You deserve to be happy and healthy.”

“It’s taken a while, but I’m finally starting to believe that,” Bucky said. “I pushed you away - I keep pushing you away - because on some level I told myself I deserved to be alone after the accident, but I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m tired of being angry, of being alone. And I miss you. I really, really miss you, Tones.”

“I miss you, too,” Tony admitted, blinking back a fresh spate of tears when Bucky lifted their joined hands and gently kissed his fingers. He felt his heart give a wild leap in his chest and he reached out and curled his other hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, letting himself feel grounded by the touch.

“Can we try again?” Bucky asked, a cautiously hopeful look in his eyes. “When we get back to New York, can I take you out to dinner?”

“Back to dinner dates and square one?” Tony asked, and Bucky nodded, firmly. 

“I want to do this right,” he said. “I want to take things slow, and I don’t want to screw this up. You’re too important to me, and I want to show you that, every day.”

“Is that why you came to New York?” Tony asked. “Because you wanted to try and pick up our relationship again?”

“Honestly, I had no idea you were even in the city, let alone teaching at Midtown,” Bucky told him. “If I had, I don’t know that I ever would have had the courage to fill out the application. But Steve found the job posting, and he and Sam insisted that I try for it-” He trailed off, his eyes widening in realization. “They knew you were in New York,” he said, flatly. “Those punks set us up.”

“I don’t know whether to thank them or yell at them,” Tony mused. “Probably a little bit of both.”

“I have a better idea,” Bucky said. “We don’t tell them a damn thing and let them stew for a while.”

“I like it,” Tony replied. “Can I-” he started, hesitantly, and then he plunged ahead before he could lose his nerve. “I’d really like to kiss you, right now.”

In answer, Bucky slid across the small distance still separating them, pressing his lips to Tony’s in a gentle, cautious kiss. Tony kissed back, completely intending to keep things light and simple, to remember that Bucky wanted to take things slow this time around. But clearly Bucky had already forgotten that little detail, because he made a low, broken noise deep in the back of his throat, grabbing Tony and pulling him in even closer. The kiss turned hot and hungry as Bucky clutched the front of Tony’s shirt, hands shaking from the effort. 

“Are we really doing this?” Tony asked, breaking the kiss long enough to pull back a bit and look at Bucky. “Because I want to-”

“I do, too,” Bucky said, his voice almost a growl with the intensity of it. “Tony, I want you. I want to touch you. I want everything.”

“The kids-” Tony started, a token protest at best since he couldn’t keep his hands off Bucky.

“It’s three in the morning,” Bucky said. “I checked on everyone before I came in, and they’re not going anywhere for the night. Trust me.”

“This is so fucking unprofessional,” Tony muttered, but he pulled Bucky back in for another kiss, sliding his tongue into his mouth and drawing out a deep moan. 

“They can’t fire us, the kids love us,” Bucky reassured him. “And I don’t wanna talk about work right now.”

Emphasizing his point, he let his hand drift lower to snake down the front of Tony’s pajama pants, ensuring that Tony wasn’t going to be talking for quite some time. Tony’s eyes rolled back in his head as Bucky wrapped his hand around his cock, rubbing slowly up his length. 

“Going straight for the kill, I see,” he joked weakly, and then he had to bite back a moan as Bucky squeezed, gently. “ _Ohmygod_!”

“I really, really missed you,” Bucky said, pointedly. 

Any reply Tony could have made was cut off when Bucky pumped his hand lazily around his cock, his hand hot and dragging just enough to fall on the right side of painful. He struggled to focus, his breath coming out in shuddering gasps as he panted, but he could do little more than hold onto Bucky and lose himself in the sensation. It had been a long time since they’d done this - since he’d done this at all, really - and he’d always been weak to Bucky’s touch, and clearly that hadn’t changed in the slightest. 

“If you keep that up,” he managed to force out, “this is gonna be over a lot sooner than you were hoping for.”

“We’ll take our time next time,” Bucky murmured in his ear, picking up the pace. “Right now, I just want to touch you, want to make you feel good.” 

He gave a particularly devious twist of his hand, and Tony buried his face in Bucky’s shoulder to mask the sound he made as he came. He shuddered through his orgasm, clutching desperately to Bucky’s arms as he tried not to fly apart at the seams. When he could finally breathe properly, he slumped against the pillow, feeling lightheaded. 

“Holy crap,” he gasped out. “I can’t even be embarrassed about how fast that was because, because-”

“Because I’m just that good,” Bucky said, smugly, making Tony laugh. 

“Give me a minute to recover,” he replied, “and I’ll take care of you.”

Bucky blushed, biting at his lip. “That’s, um, that’s not really necessary,” he admitted, sheepishly. 

“Well, damn,” Tony drawled, approvingly. “Now who’s just that good?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Tony’s. “I’ll get up and get a washcloth in a second,” he said. “I just want to lay here and hold you for a bit, first.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tony said. “What happened to wanting to take things slow?”

“Oh, I’m gonna romance the crap out of you,” Bucky told him. “Flowers, chocolates, long walks on the pier - I’m gonna woo you so hard-”

“I don’t know that anyone’s ever wooed me before,” Tony said. 

“So much wooing,” Bucky said. “We’re gonna be the sappiest damn couple in all of New York. Because I love you, and you deserve it.”

* * *

The next morning, Tony muffled a yawn behind his head as he supervised everyone at breakfast, and Harley smirked at him from the table he was sharing with MJ and Peter. 

“Having fun?” Tony asked, stopping by their table and stealing one of the strawberries on Harley’s plate. 

“Are you and Bucky having fun?” Harley retorted, archly, and Tony choked on the strawberry.

“Grounded,” he gasped out, while Harley grinned unrepentantly up at him. “So grounded.”

Beside Harley, Peter laughed, muttering something like, “Told you this would work,” and Tony’s eyes narrowed. 

“Told you what would work?” he demanded, and suddenly all three of them were suspiciously silent. “Did one of you mess with the room reservation?”

Panicked looks all around, and then Harley blurted out, “It was Steve’s idea!”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Tony decided. 

“Going to kill who?” Bucky asked, joining them. “Reservations are all set for the next stop, by the way. We’re good to leave right after everyone’s done with breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Tony told him. “And, it’s Steve. I’m going to kill Steve, because he gave these three the idea of screwing with our reservation and messing up our rooms.”

“Well, actually Steve suggested locking you in a closet until you kissed and made up,” Peter spoke up, glancing away quickly when Tony looked at him. “MJ figured the room thing was a better option.”

“And Peter’s the one who actually got into their computer system,” MJ added, quickly. 

“You’re all grounded,” Tony declared. 

“You can’t ground us,” Peter protested.

“You’re both dating my kid, that means I get to ground you by proxy,” Tony told him. “And you’re all grounded til-” He broke off suddenly at the sound of a high-pitched meow. “What?”

“Nothing!” Harley blurted out, his eyes shifting guiltily to his backpack. 

“Mew!” said Harley’s backpack, insistently.

Tony took a deep breath, reminded himself to stay calm, and asked, “Is that a kitten?”

“It’s three kittens,” Harley admitted, after a long moment. He unzipped his backpack so that Tony could see a trio of fuzzballs staring up at him from the bed Harley had made for them. “The cafe owner said we could take them, said he had too many and they’d be homeless.”

“We had to take them all,” Peter added, quickly. 

“What do you mean, all?” Tony demanded. He groaned as something occurred to him. “Show of hands,” he called out, raising his voice so all the students could hear him, “who was given a kitten at the cafe, yesterday?”

A pointed silence swept through the room, and then half a dozen hands crept into the air. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he could feel coming. Bucky clapped a sympathetic hand to his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna have to deal with so many angry letters from parents, aren’t I?” Tony asked, mournfully. 

“So many,” Bucky agreed. 

“You’re going to help me with them, right?”

“Absolutely not.”

Tony shot him an exasperated side-eye. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, low enough that no one else could hear him. 

Bucky just beamed at him. “You love me,” he told Tony, happily. 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, a sappy smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been like a decade since I wrote porn of any kind, so I'm hoping that scene worked.


End file.
